Slapable
by ShadesofImagination
Summary: Once in a while, Genesis just can't take it anymore...and that blond Cadet isn't helping matters at all. Crack.


_**AN: First, I would like to tell you that this idea came from watching too many commercials on Boom. Have I ever mentioned how much I love Daffy Duck? Second, this is crack for the sake of crack. If you're opposed to slapping, possible liking of the slapping, and more insane that usual Genesis you shouldn't read this. **_

_**Jax is mine. Why? Because I said so and I made him up, damn it. **_

…

_**Slapable**_

…

"I can't take it anymore!" Genesis declared to the vacant room. Nodding once to himself he jogged through the door and down the steps.

Perhaps taking his lunch in the observation room above the Cadet's training room hadn't been the best of ideas. However, had he known that little blond would have been in _that_ class, he might have changed his plans, if only for Sephiroth's sake. He was sure the mighty General was tired of getting complaints.

This…this could not be helped though.

With his usual flair, he threw the door open and sauntered in as the class froze. Smirking, he strode over to their commanding officer. "Jax, I need a moment."

Jackson rolled his eyes, smiling none the less and nodded. He shot the class a look, motioning for them to continue and met Genesis in the middle. "You need something, Gen?"

Genesis nodded, eyeing the blond over the man's should. "Jax, who is that kid with the chocobo's ass on his head."

Jax snorted. "Ah, that would be Cadet Strife."

"Strife…of course; the irony," he muttered.

Jax gave him an odd look and shook his head. "You know, Gen, I don't even want to know. If you want the kid, take him: get him out of my hair."

An auburn eyebrow arched. "A troublemaker?"

That would certainly make things easier if that were the case.

Sadly, the Second shook his head. "No. Honestly, he's a great kid; polite, got a sweet smile, and works real hard. He's just terrible – has no confidence."

Nodding, Genesis gave Jax's shoulder a fond squeeze and made his way over to the Cadet. "Strife," he barked, chuckling when the young man leapt away from him. "Come with me."

Not bothering to wait for a reply, Genesis turned on his heel and left the room, waving nonchalantly over his shoulder.

The next few minutes were spent waiting for the blond, Strife, and then leading him down the hall. The empty observation room would be best, he decided and slid the card. The door slid open with a hiss, revealing a sharp incline of stairs and he jogged up them, listening to Strife's boots echo as he did the same. When they finally reached the room, Genesis shut the privacy door and whirled around.

Strife was standing a few feet off, arms crossed over his chest and looking warily around the room. Good, Genesis thought, he should be worried, stuck in the same room, alone, with the terror of Shinra. "Strife, I have two things to say to you."

He jumped again but nodded, taking a hesitant step forward.

"First, I am not nearly as crazy as I like everyone to believe. Sephiroth will be the first to disagree with that and Angeal the second. The puppy…well, his opinion doesn't matter in the least."

The worry in Strife's face faded into an incredulous frown. Obviously, that had been a little unexpected. This would be even more so.

"Secondly," Genesis started, taking a step forward. He was pleased to note Strife didn't back away. He should have. With a maniacal grin, Genesis reached out and slapped him, biting his lip to keep in a giggle when a look of utter shock took over the young blond's face. "You have a very slapable face."

Strife's mouth opened and closed, much like a fish out of water before his lips met in a thin line and he kicked Genesis hard in the shins.

He hadn't been expecting that.

Cursing, Genesis stumbled to the side and froze when there was a loud crack and his left asscheek throbbed, a stinging pain taking over the pain in his leg. "What _the fuck_?" he snarled, turning on Strife.

Strife, for his part, was looking very smug, despite the red, nearly purple, hand print on his cheek. The blond arched a thin eyebrow at him and poked one gloved finger into his chest. "You, _sir_, have a very slapable ass."

That said, Strife winked – _winked_ - at him and left the room.

Shocked, Genesis was loath to admit that he didn't immediately chase after the Cadet. Much to his own horror, his ass really hurt. That little Cadet could slap with the best of them. He shifted and winced as the leather of his pants rubbed across his left cheek. Taking a step forward, the realization of what just happened finally hit him and he choked on a slightly hysterical giggle.

A _Cadet _had slapped him. On the ass. A _Cadet _slapped _him._

Cackling, he jogged down the stairs, ignoring the pain and stumbled through the training room's main doors. Once again, the class froze, but he paid them no mind.

Gasping, he raised a hand and waved it at Strife, whose face was a lovely shade of purple now. A new wave of giggles took over and when he finally got himself under control, he stood up straight, and pointed a finger directly at the Cadet. "_You _will be seeing more of me."

Grinning, Genesis gave a wobbly salute to Jax, who was staring at him like he'd grown a sixth head and left, cursing loudly when leather rubbed against skin again. He probably had a damn welt.

Yes, Strife would be seeing _much _more of him.

…

_**Looney Tunes!**_


End file.
